


A good kisser

by Mierke



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:56:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5974753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mierke/pseuds/Mierke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>You requested both Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - how can I pass up writing for someone with taste that awesome?! I hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	A good kisser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Diaphenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/gifts).



> You requested both Galavant and Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - how can I pass up writing for someone with taste that awesome?! I hope you enjoy!

"Greg?"

"Yes, Rebecca?" he answered, not even bothering to look up as he continued wiping the bar. She'd been sitting at that stool for over three hours and had asked questions that ranged from "Why does Josh like Valencia?" - to which really no one has an answer, so he had opted to just ignore that one - to "Should I drink a vodka or a martini?", to which he'd said "Have a vodkatini" and had proceeded to make her one.

"Do you think I'd be a good kisser?"

Before Greg could even start to think about how to answer that one, she'd continued talking.

"Like, I haven't had a lot of practice. Do you need practice to become a kisser? Or are some people just naturals? And how do I know which one I am? If I would go about kissing a couple of random people, would they grade me low or high?"

She looked at him as if honestly expecting an answer, and Greg was very grateful when Deb asked for another drink from the other side of the bar. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about kissing Rebecca and had spent nearly as much time trying to _not_ think about kissing Rebecca. Not talking about kissing Rebecca had suited him just fine up till now, and he really wanted to continue that streak. 

When he returned to the bar, though, Rebecca had somehow found her way behind it and was looking at the bottles with a distractingly cute frown on her face. 

"Do these bottles even like each other?" she asked and then turned to Greg with an accusation in her eyes. "Or are you just forcing them next to each other, having to spend their entire lives among bottles they can't get along with?"

"Okay..." Greg answered, and he tried to steer Rebecca back to her stool. If it had been any other patron, he'd have cut her off and sent her home, convinced she'd had too much alcohol. With Rebecca, though, you could never be sure. This could just be her normal self instead of a drunken induced rant. 

"Sorry, I got distracted," Rebecca said, resisting all of Greg's attempts to get her to go back to her side of the bar. "What I meant to do here was-"

And before she finished her sentence and before Greg knew what she was doing, she was kissing him. Full on kissing him, her lips widening a little, her tongue sneaking out, and he lost himself in the sensation of having the woman he liked so much in his arms. He kissed her back, traced the lines of her mouth with an intense concentration that would help him remember this moment for months, at least. 

"And?" Rebecca asked when she let him go and took a step back, and for a moment Greg had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. "How was I?"

Greg let out a choked laugh and shooed Rebecca back to her barstool. This time, she went without putting up any resistance, and he let out a small relieved sigh, that was mixed with a huge amount of disappointment.

"You were good," he said finally and went back to wiping the bar (he didn't think it could get any cleaner, but he couldn't look Rebecca in the eye and had to have some excuse of keeping himself busy). 

"Just good?" Rebecca pouted, and Greg had to resist the urge to reach out to her.

"Ah, well, you know what they say," he said instead. "Practice makes perfect."

Rebecca immediately perked up and went to get up from her stool, and Greg raised his hands in defence.

"Not with me though!" he said, resolutely shutting down every part of him that desperately wanted it to be him. "Go find someone else to kiss."

She stood still for a beat, then shrugged and, with a cheery "Okay!", left the bar, presumably to find that someone else. Greg slumped, torturing himself with memories of that kiss, his heart almost breaking out of his chest, when Deb called for another drink.

"And so the world keeps turning," he thought, and poured another vodka and cranberry juice.


End file.
